


burden of destiny

by kalypsobean



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:19:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8995375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: The weight of destiny was hard to deal with.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



The weight of destiny was hard to deal with. Glorfindel knew this well, for after all, it weighed on him, too. He had been strengthened, however, by his time in the West, and was not so burdened that his fëa dimmed easily. It was not the same for Elrond; it was harder on him, though he was half-Elven and should have held the same light within him as Glorfindel, it seemed dampened, as if the earth's energy could not cleanse the taint of death.

Elrond worked hard to make sure nobody noticed; if Glorfindel had not been returned, he would not have been able to see it; may not have been able to look past his own shadows.

 

There wasn't much to say about it; there was no time for Elrond to rest, and indeed, rare was the opportunity for Glorfindel to speak with him alone, away from those who would doubt him, a half-Elf suddenly left with the rule of all the Eldar in Middle-Earth. His lineage was not questioned, but the same isolationist thinking that caused such heavy losses threatened to forever sunder their kindreds. It was for peace that Elrond turned down the title; simply enough, those who would have followed him did, and those who preferred their own rule did not. That hurt Elrond too, as if it were personal; there was little Glorfindel could do to fix that situation.

 

_What am I meant to do?_ he asked Ithil, as if Yavanna could hear him. He didn't expect a vision; he'd had his share of those, and was still recovering, but a stray thought, a glimpse in a dream... it was in asking for guidance that he found himself able to listen for it. Soon after, he spied Elrond walking to the gardens, barely but a shadow amid the white wooden arches. It seemed the natural thing to follow him, though by the time Glorfindel reached the path, Elrond had disappeared from his sight. 

There was a moment where he thought perhaps Elrond had deliberately sought solitude, yet it seemed unusual that he would withdraw so far, even from his own family. Glorfindel quieted his mind and listened, reaching out with his fëa and his senses. It wasn't difficult to find Elrond, for he felt hollower, somehow, as if he took up space with absence instead of light.

 

It was with concern that Glorfindel made his presence know, deliberately breaking fallen twigs as he walked; Elrond still startled, hand reaching for a sword that was no longer belted to his waist. 

"It's me," Glorfindel said. Elrond visibly relaxed, in a way that saddened Glorfindel to see. It was as if he was no longer able to hold himself up; Glorfindel steadied him, but instead of a light touch it became an embrace, for Elrond was near collapse. Glorfindel slipped his arms loosely around Elrond's waist and took his weight across his chest, letting Elrond lean on him. 

If enveloping Elrond in his fëa would aid in beating back the shadows from Elrond's heart, he would be glad. It would not be enough, though; beneath his tunic and robes, Elrond seemed much thinner, and Glorfindel had no cause to put effort into supporting him.

 

"How do you recover from so much death?" Elrond whispered. It was barely loud enough to be heard, and yet, it felt as if it took all Elrond's breath to say.

"You live," Glorfindel said, simply. It was all he knew how to say; it was what he had chosen to do, after all, to live and serve.

"You'll stay?" Elrond said, and it chilled Glorfindel, for he had never heard Elrond so uncertain.

"I will," he said. "I will be at your side even as you leave these shores, whenever that day comes." Elrond didn't reply; only leaned into the embrace, letting his head fall onto Glorfindel's shoulder. Glorfindel understood; there weren't always words for such losses, no guide for honouring the fallen. 

He would not leave Elrond to find his path alone, even if he were to hear the call from over the Sea.


End file.
